


Rough

by Lord_Morzahn



Series: Fictober 2020 [17]
Category: Greenwarden - Elliot Z.
Genre: Blood and Injury, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Morzahn/pseuds/Lord_Morzahn
Summary: A close call in the field leads to the Tracker and Bautista being a little more free with their feelings. (Fictober 2020, Prompt 29)
Relationships: Marianna Bautista/Tracker (Greenwarden)
Series: Fictober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081712
Kudos: 1





	Rough

"Back up!" You shout desperately, your feet scrambling for purchase in the loose dirt.

The creature snarls and snaps its jaws, desperately trying to get a hold on you as you dangle just within its reach.

"Back up, back up, back up!" Your brain shoots into a desperate override as you crowd back into Bautista.

"I'm fucking _trying_!" She shouts, her gun in the way. The cellar is caving in around the two of you, rotten wood giving way to the force of the huge anomaly.

Right as you think it's about to be the end, the cellar door finally opens, spilling Bautista and you backwards out of it.

The relief only lasts a moment before you're both scrambling up to shut the doors. You slam one down while Bautista fires into the hole, the beast screeching and thrashing.

She empties the clip and you slam the other door, and then desperately shove a nearly piece of metal rod into the handles before beating a hasty retreat.

You both ready for the second assault, but it doesn't come. You and Bautista wait, dripping sweat and paranoid as the sounds of the creature fade, the wet gurgling giving way to silence so strong your ears ring with it.

Finally, you slink back to check if it's really dead, to be met with the huge bloated corpse oozing puss and ichor from dozens of bullet holes.

The adrenaline starts to rush out of your body, leaving you jittering and exhausted. You see Bautista still has a pale-knuckled grip on her gun.

"Ok. Check-over." She mutters, probably more to herself than to you. You're not listening anyways. You stalk over to the nearby tree on the old farm and collapse against the trunk.

You close your eyes and force yourself to wind down here. Slowly, as you focus on your breathing, the sounds of the forest come back. Birds, insects. Detecting that the void of life that was the anomaly is gone. It's almost soothing.

You hear Bautista walk up to you, her footsteps crunching the sparse fallen leaves. They stop their crinkling as she halts a pace away from you.

"You're bleeding."

Eyes snap open and you glance down your body to where she lies at your feet. You don't see anything; the creature didn't lay a tooth on you, despite its best efforts.

"Where?" You ask, but Bautista's already kneeling down to your left. You bite your tongue- close, too close, very unlike her.

She doesn't touch you, but extends a hand in the direction of yours. That's when you see the red streams trickling into the dirt. You cut your hand open scrambling away. Or maybe on the door? Hard to know, but there's a lot of dirt on your palms.

"Ah." You wince as your brain registers the pain. You sit up, gently cradling your injured hand in your uninjured one. They're both filthy, you're going to be a bitch to disinfect alone.

"Here." Bautista holds out her own hand, the other clutching a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol. "Let's give you something before we get back and can clean it fully."

You let her take your hand, those big calloused fingers holding you gently, like a newborn puppy. Her touch lights a fire in your skin, hotter than the alcohol as she pours it, and you're glad, because now you can both pretend it's the pain making your pulse pick up, making your face flush.

Would she touch you like that everywhere? You wonder. So gently. But then she helps you up, and you're reminded of her strength. Firm arms with smooth muscles under that deep tan skin, and you realize she could probably snap you in half if she really wanted.

She could be rough if she chooses. And that makes you blush just as hard as her gentleness. If for dirtier reasons.

All that strength over top of you...

Back at the hotel, as she properly cleans your wound, it's all you can think about. You can't concentrate on anything else; her hands linger everywhere for longer than necessary.

Kneeling in front of you. Wrapping the gauze around your palm with intense concentration, her touch dancing on your skin.

"...I'm glad you're alright." She says quietly, almost wincing as she lets her words slip. She probably expects you to rebuff them, to mock her, biting in viciously.

The instinct is there. But...she doesn't deserve that. You don't want to hurt her anymore. You're so tired of denying what you really want.

When you don't say anything, she continues. Slowly, as if she doesn't like she's admitting to it. "I...I really thought that thing was going to get you. Us. The door was stuck and I thought "this thing's going to kill you.""

She shakes her head, affixing the gauze securely. Her fingers stay after, just...holding you. "I don't know what happened to me, but when I thought that...I smashed into the door even harder, because I couldn't stand the thought."

She starts to pull away, and you reverse the grip, clinging to her instead. Her eyebrows shoot into her hairline, but she stays.

She stays.

You slowly run your fingers across her hand, down her wrists until you grip her forearm. "It's...it's hard for me to know that you care. But I'm glad that you do." You admit, unable to meet her eyes.

"Why?" She whispers.

"Because..." You swallow, firing yourself up to meet that warm brown gaze. "You deserve an awful lot better than me." You can feel your throat swelling up. God, please don't cry. Not right now. But the tears are coming, you can tell.

"I- I spent all this time telling myself that you couldn't...didn't care about me. That I was just the job." You admit, and it's like you're cut open all over again. Bleeding your feelings all over you, Bautista, and the hotel carpet.

She glances away, looking ashamed. "You were. At first." The admission makes your heart clench, that horrible knowledge that some of your worst thoughts were true threatening to send you spiraling.

You work quickly to ground yourself, breath heaving. New and old techniques because you promised her you'd try. You stop the disaster before it begins, and you're so proud of yourself you momentarily forget the conversation.

Until she draws you back in with those eyes, losing you in their depths and pulling you into her orbit like a magnet. "But not anymore. I-" She chokes on her own breath, softly. Your name comes out from her lips like a psalm. Unbearably _soft_. 

You don't know when it happened, but she's closer now, the both of you inches apart and getting closer. You feel her breath on your lips and you take the plunge, fingers tugging her into you to crash those last inches.

She makes a surprised little sound as your lips meet, but she returns the kiss instantly, deepening it. You can feel her passion as she moves against you, hand cupping your cheek to draw you closer, closer, closer.

The sparks turn to fire quickly, months of pent up emotions thrumming through the both of you like a raging wildfire. You pull at her roughly, needing your hands everywhere, needing her everywhere, desperately. Like a goddamn drug. 

You bite her lip and pull and she growls, making your stomach shudder at the hunger you hear in her voice. She pushes you onto the bed, pressing her weight down on you and grinding.

You can't help the little whimper that escapes when you feel her against you, your body screaming for her to be even closer. You take it back, this is better than any drug. 

She yanks her shirt off overhead, but you've no time to appreciate the view before her lips are on yours again. Her hands go right for your belt, and you grab her ass, making her moan.

"You want this?" Her voice is husky with desire, a sharp gleam in her eye. She hardly takes her lips off yours to ask, staying in the shared breaths between you.

Your ""yes" is instant, and her mouth practically swallows the words. Your hips grind against her as she settles between your legs. Your belt is gone, and her hands fumble for your jeans button, desperate.

You break for air and so she can get your pants off, and you throw your shirt across the room. Your hands cup her face as she comes back to you, the kiss melting your brain just a little. Your hands trail down, along her shoulders and down her back until you reach her sports bra.

You snap at the straps and growl "Off." She pushes you down forcefully and leans back to lift the bra off like her shirt. Her muscles flex and undulate as she does, and then the world pauses- taking a moment to drink you in as you do to her. The sight of her half naked before you sends a flood of wetness between your legs, making your thighs clench and shudder.

She smirks and grinds her hips into you, only the thin cotton of your boxer briefs preventing you from smearing your slick on her pants. Barely. A few moments longer and you're sure they'll be soiled.

"Tell me how you want this." She says, voice firm like an order and a devilish grin on her face. Predatory. Like she's got you right where she wants you.

And you're weak for it.

"There's a strap-on in my bag. Fuck me." You demand, need making you bold. You want her deep in every part of you, the parts you let no-one else get to.

Her hands grab yours, pushing them above your head and into the mattress, her lips roughly sucking at your throat, making your hips buck and a strangled sound escape your lips. "Stay right here." She growls, and the thrill goes through you again, though you haven't missed how she avoided your injury. She still cares, that subtle gentleness seeping through, and it drives you wild.

You watch with bated breath as she takes off her pants and puts on the strap. You give a shuddering groan as she faces you again, desire alight in her intense gaze. "You ready for me, baby?" She asks in that husky tone that sends shivers down your body, and you nod vigorously, wanting her to touch you again.

She crawls back up you and grabs your chin in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes. "I need you to say so."

"I want you." How easily your pride flees, the back of your mind notes. If all it takes for Bautista to make you a whimpering, compliant mess is this. She hasn't even touched you there yet.

"Stop means stop, ok?"

"Ok." You nod, just wanting her to get on it already. Calloused hands slide your underwear down your legs slowly, torturous. She spreads your legs open wide, exposing you fully, and your breath stutters.

You've never felt vulnerability quite like this. Needy and unable to deny it, hide it. The smirk on her lips as she looks at your core tells you she knows it.

You've got the strangest contradiction to shut your legs and turn your head away, embarrassed, but also to spread then wider and pull her into you, looking deep into her eyes.

Her hands rub your thighs, coaxing you to stay open. The glee on her face excites you too, and you feel yourself twitch down there. "Someone's excited." She smirks, taking her new length in hand and slowly rubbing it along your pussy, the delicious friction making your clit throb.

You throw your head back at the sensation, your hips grinding down of their own accord. "Don't tease." You beg. "Please don't tease."

Bautista nods. "I think you've waited long enough. We both have." She rubs against you for only a moment longer, coating her shaft in your juices before pressing into you.

She slides in slowly, easing in until she's at the hilt and your hips are quivering against hers. The breath that escapes her as she bottoms out makes you needy all over again. You need her, all of her, everywhere.

"Kiss me." You demand, and she complies, lips against you as she begins pumping. She explores as much of you as she can with her mouth without losing her rhythm, sucking against your collarbone and teeth grazing your shoulder.

Every moment is ecstacy. Your unoccupied mouth begs for more, screaming for her to fuck you. You only lose your voice when she finally pushes you over the edge, not stopping until you're thrown off the cliff a second time, then a third.

Only then does she let you wind down, easing out of your sensitive cunt and leaving your thighs quivering. Strong arms roll you to the side and embrace you, letting you drift off safely.

You know when you wake you'll return the favour, already planning for breakfast in bed...


End file.
